One Way Street
by maudesglove
Summary: Detective Rizzoli takes the scenic route to a crime scene, and Dr. Isles is nervous. In this chapter, the duo heads back to Maura's place after their swim, and Jane reveals all. Please note the rating change to M!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N: **This is my first post with FF. Thanks for reading!

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><p>"Oh, come ON."<p>

Detective Jane Rizzoli's leg pulsed violently under her desk. She could feel the pain sear her temples as she stared at the computer screen, waiting for the lunch menu to load in her browser. Her eyes darkened as another 15 seconds went by and all she could see was the top of the restaurant's logo.

"Mother flying f —"

Detective Vince Korsak, who had been watching Jane carefully all morning, cleared his throat deliberately. He meant it as a polite warning, because in her frustration, Jane didn't hear the steady click of designer heels as Dr. Maura Isles glided through the bullpen and stopped inches behind her chair.

Jane censored herself just in time to turn and look up at the expression of mild amusement on the medical examiner's face.

"Should I come back later?"

Jane softened at the sight of her best friend. She was stunning: her eyes were deep but playful, her silky hair waved perfectly around her face, and the faint, familiar aroma of Dolce & Gabbana hit Jane's olfactory senses like a bullet. She was completely, and unknowingly, under Maura's spell.

Called out of the ring, the female detective sighed and slumped into her chair. She turned back to fling a half-hearted accusation at her screen.

"No, not later. Later this computer won't be here because I've thrown it out the window."

"And the department will just love taking that out of your paycheck, Rizzoli," Korsak snuck in. It was much easier — and safer — to take a jab at his former partner when Maura was around.

"Yeah, well I'd like to see what the other Lieutenants do when I tell them the reason our internet is so slow is because you're streaming videos of kittens all day long," Jane snorted. She was back in the fight as quick as she left it.

"I saw an amusing video of a kitten riding on a tortoise the other day — have you seen it, Vince?" Maura interjected, perhaps in an attempt to temper the heat radiating from the brunette's head.

Korsak nodded emphatically, happy for the diversion. "Oh, that's my favorite! Makes me wish I had a tortoise like Bass and some fuzzy little kittens to put on his shell!"

The look on Jane's face was enough to bring the conversation to a screeching halt, and Maura turned their attention instead to the pressing matter of lunch.

Before they could choose between Maura's suggestion of clams and calamari or Jane's more practical option of subs and salads, Detective Barry Frost burst into the bullpen with a lead. The body of a middle-aged man had been found at a self storage facility in Dorchester and they needed Rizzoli and Isles at the scene.

"Perfect. There goes lunch," Jane grumbled. Her tongue was considerably more acerbic on an empty stomach.

Maura, who didn't mind forgoing lunch for the sake of a good case, tried to rally Jane's spirits. "If we finish by 6, dinner's on me. I owe you for our last outing."

"Pffft! You owe me nothing, Dr. Isles. And, if I recall, you only let me get the tip. That's not paying for dinner, so, I'll tell you what — if we're done before this menu loads, dinner's on _me_!" Jane stood from her chair, reaching for her badge and keys before turning back to the M.E..

"Deal," replied Maura, locking eyes with the tall detective. She flashed a warm smile, and Jane's stomach fell to her feet.

With a pact in place, the duo made their way out of police headquarters and into the sticky Boston afternoon.

...

"I don't understand why you won't try calamari, Jane. It's a perfectly acceptable seafood. You can even eat most varieties with your fingers."

Maura continued her petition as they made their way down Washington Street in the detective's SUV. She was determined to show her best friend the joys of a varied diet, even if it meant eating an evening meal without utensils.

"I still think it's just — I don't know, funky."

Jane shuddered involuntarily, both from the thought of slurping on squid and the quick change in temperature as the AC blasted her neckline. It was a hot day by east coast standards, and the humidity paired with a screaming stomach made her more irritable than usual.

She paused at an intersection, trying to concentrate on where they were. After living here all her life, Jane thought she'd know her way around a few side streets in the most populated neighborhood of Boston by now. Her eyes darted left to right, an impatience mounting.

"Where the hell is this damn storage facility? Hey, Maur, you're supposed to be my navigator here — give me some direction, would ya'?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, Jane. All this talk of food distracted me. I was looking up appropriate restaurants for dinner tonight." The detective's stomach made an extra groan at the thought of dinner.

Maura clicked a few buttons on her phone and found her way back to Google Maps. She normally refrained from discussing social activities while on the clock, but she couldn't help it today. The doctor hadn't spent time with Jane since the Rizzoli's invited her to a Red Sox game three weeks ago. But even then she didn't have Jane all to herself, and she missed their quality time together.

"Okay. Turn left on Ashmont Street," Maura directed. She was all business now, eager to keep her friend's frustration at bay.

Just as Jane nodded and made the sharp turn, a muffled voice buzzed through the police radio.

"_Possible .19 in a silver Toyota Celica reported heading south on Norfolk. Passenger is armed and firing at civilians. Requesting officer assistance."_

As a Lieutenant Detective, Jane knew she didn't have to respond to the call if she was on assignment. But she also knew Norfolk was just a few blocks away. A surge of energy jolted her, traveling like lightening down her right leg and hitting the gas pedal to the floor. Suddenly, she was a rookie cop again.

She chanced a sideways glance at Maura, who's eyes were wide and white as the detective made a swift U-turn and switched on the police sirens in one fluid motion.

"Hold on, Maur. I have to take care of this."

Jane grabbed the radio from the holder and pressed her mouth to the intercom. Her left hand gripped the steering wheel as she skillfully maneuvered the busy side streets.

"Yeah, this is Detective Rizzoli. I'm on it."

The loud whir of the siren made oncoming traffic swerve into sidewalks and unsuspecting pedestrians throw groceries in the air. Houses, trees and stop signs blurred together as they went faster and faster.

It was like an action film, Maura thought. She had seen her friend's best Boston driving, but never had she seen Jane in the thick of a chase.

"Jane. JANE. You do realize this is — that this is a one-way street?"

The color had gone out of the M.E.'s face. She clenched the handle above the passenger window and swallowed hard as her friend made another sharp turn. The tires squealed with delight.

"I noticed that, thanks. Listen, Maur: if I tell you to get down, you get down, understand?" She turned to look at the honey-haired woman, who was already slouched far down in her seat. All Maura could do was squeak and nod her head in compliance.

Jane's intensity seemed to vibrate through the car as she skidded through the alleys and avenues of Dorchester. She only hoped her short cut was short enough to cut the perpetrator off at the chase.

"Evans Street. Norfolk should be just up here," The detective breathed to herself. After an instinctive right-turn, she spotted a silver Celica dodging in and out of traffic. Just as dispatch reported, the passenger was firing a handgun into the streets.

"Those better be blanks,"she snarled through gritted teeth. With the pedal to the floor, Jane was about to play a game of chicken.

'MAURA, GET DOWN NOW!"

The terrified M.E. released her death grip on the handle and tucked her head as low as she could manage. There was a deafening screech as the SUV slid sideways and came to a deliberate halt.

Jane didn't have time to think about how reckless she was being in that moment. All she knew was that her blood was pumping, and she wasn't about to let a perp get away. Within seconds her door was open, gun drawn.

"FREEZE! Boston police! Put down your weapon and step out of the vehicle with your hands on your head."

Jane's arms were tensed, pointed at the silver car which had also come to a dramatic stop. The windows were tinted, but she could make out the distinctive silhouettes of two young males. There was no motion.

"This isn't an option. Come out with your hands on your head now or I _will_ fire!"

The day's heat punctuated the tension of the scene as a bead of perspiration dripped from the tip of Jane's nose, landing unnoticed with a sizzle on the pavement. She tilted her head and approached the offending vehicle cautiously.

Slowly, the doors opened: first the driver's side, then the passenger's. Young, haggard figures emerged with their arms raised. The driver-side male calmly placed his hands on his head while the other kept his arms high and outstretched; there was a look of defiance on his face. In his right hand was a semi-automatic.

"I SAID DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

The next few seconds passed like minutes.

Just as the driver-side male turned to flee, Jane saw a small, familiar object cut through the thick summer air and clock the perpetrator square in the head. He fell to the ground hard, scalded by the temperature of the street as his body scraped along the rubble.

Simultaneously, the passenger-side male brought his hand down to a firing position just as the detective aimed her barrel at his right shoulder and pulled the heavy trigger. His body blasted back into the silver car, which braced him as he slid down the frame. A trail of blood smudged the windows and paint as he staggered.

Another beat, and Jane found her way around the car to the driver-side perp. She began cuffing his hands, lifting him from the road and throwing him forcefully into the Celica's spoiler.

"I'll never understand why men think these things make them hot shit," the detective quipped, making sure the assailant felt the edge of the fin in his chest as she finished clasping the remaining cuff. With the other perp secured by her shot, Jane lead the restrained man to her SUV. Her adrenaline quickly dissolved.

She then noticed a ruffled-looking Maura standing outside the open passenger door; she was breathing heavily and missing her right heel.

"What the hell, Maur?"

Still gripping the perp, Jane whipped around to investigate the spot where the man had fallen. Just as she suspected, about five feet away lay a battered Jimmy Choo stiletto. She turned back to find a sheepish grin on the M.E.'s face.

"I saw that in a movie once," Maura replied, still breathless. "Although, I like to think I have better taste in shoes."

Jane only had time to chuckle in disbelief at her fashionable friend before the squad cars arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N: **I read an interview with Sasha Alexander where she's talking about the characters in R&I and how they have typical things happen to them during atypical situations. Things like flirting over dead bodies. I think there's something interesting about that idea, especially paired with the character dynamics of Jane and Maura: whereas Jane tends to internalize emotions, Maura tends to bring them out. Those thoughts were in my head while writing this chapter. I hope you enjoy!

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><p>A crisply-dressed officer shut the rear door on the remaining police car, giving a quick nod in the detective's direction before climbing into the front seat.<p>

With her jacket sleeves pushed up and fists resting firmly on her hips, Jane watched for a moment as the vehicle drove away with the cuffed assailant. An ambulance had rushed his accomplice to Carney Hospital minutes before.

A grim picture of the past several moments was coming into focus for Jane, and she thought of what Lieutenant Cavanaugh would say about discharging a weapon like an untrained officer instead of solving a homicide investigation.

Jane also thought about Maura: in order to satisfy a rash need for justice, she had just put her best friend's life in danger.

"Shit."

She shook her head and shuffled dark locks back from her face. Her hairline was now soaked with sweat. Deflated, she peeled off her stuffy jacket and dragged her feet back to the SUV, noting with admiration the severity of the car's angle from her hasty stop. Jane chuckled to herself as annoyed drivers made their way around a police blockade, beeping and swearing as they passed. Disappointed by-standers trickled away as the scene dispersed.

With a loud sigh, the detective closed the driver-side door and started the ignition. Maura, who had just applied a fresh layer of lipstick in the rear-view mirror, looked neat and composed when she observed the contorted features of her friend's face. She didn't need to ask what was wrong.

"Jane, it's going to be fine. You did the right thing." After some hesitation, she added "In fact, I think you behaved quite admirably."

Maura gently squeezed Jane's forearm, exchanging looks and a reassuring smile with her brown-eyed friend.

"Thanks, Maur."

Jane always found sincerity in the hazel reflection of Maura's eyes. Eyes that saw right to her core, no matter how hard she tried to conceal or deny. Before their gaze had time to linger into uncomfortable silence, the detective had a sudden flash of her friend's own heroic moment.

"Hey, I have something for you, Wonder Woman. You know, that's quite an arm you have!" She grinned and produced Maura's missing heel from her crumpled coat pocket. "It's a little worse for wear, but it should still be — I don't know, functional? If that isn't an oxymoron."

"Oh, thank you!" Maura looked brightly at Jane before taking the stiletto and slipping it gracefully onto her delicate foot. "Did you know that Jimmy Choo's family name is actually Chow, but it was misspelled on his birth certificate?"

While Jane put the car in drive, she casually glanced over as the blonde rested her foot on the glove compartment to buckle the shoe in place. Her heart raced as she caught a glimpse of Maura's well-defined calf.

'Uh, no, I didn't," she replied absently, her head snapping back to the road ahead. After a beat, she blurted: "Wait, who the hell's Jimmy Choo?"

Maura laughed and waved her arm in dismissal, knowing her jeans-and-tshirt-friend wouldn't care about the well-known fashion designer.

Jane smiled at her own ignorance, pulling her phone from the cup holder to check the missed calls.

"Damnit, it's 4 o'clock already and Frost has called me at least a dozen times. We have to get to that crime scene."

The detective pointed the wheels in the direction of Ashmont street, where a storage facility and dead body awaited them.

...

"It's about time, Rizzoli," Detective Frost reprimanded as Jane slammed the door on the SUV and surveyed the 'Extra Space' storage facility. Her younger partner was making a pointed effort to look annoyed, even though it was obvious he had just thrown up in the bushes behind him.

"Get in line, Frost. I already have to explain myself to Cavanaugh, and I definitely don't need _you_ breathing down my neck. "

Alarmed, Frost threw a questioning look at Maura, who had just tastefully dismounted from the passenger side door. Catching their exchange, she made a curt motion with her head that suggested he shouldn't ask where they had been for the past 2 hours. He decided not to press the issue.

"Would you like some bismuth subsalicylate, detective?" Maura whispered to the ailing man as the trio headed toward the building. Jane was in the lead with a trail of smoke behind her.

"You mean like, Pepto Bismol? Yes, uh — if you have some, Dr. Isles, thank you," Frost whispered back, ashamed that the beautiful M.E. had noticed his discomfort.

Inside the facility, they followed the wave of yellow tape to the last storage unit in the corridor. A forensics team was finishing their collection of evidence as Jane studied the scene. Her brow furrowed as she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail.

Stacks of worn cardboard boxes lined the walls of the 10' x 10' cube. Magazines, Christmas decorations, and the usual home furnishings filled the space.

"Where's the body?" Maura called to no one in particular as she caught up with Jane, automatically producing her ID badge. She was now in full examiner mode, stretching blue latex gloves over her well-groomed hands.

"Everywhere," a crew member responded dryly.

Before the duo could ask for an explanation, Frost clarified while screwing the cap on a pink bottle and handing it back to the M.E..

"He means that literally; there's body parts in almost every box we searched."

"Fantastic," Jane muttered.

"Who determined it was a middle-aged man?" Maura inquired, unfazed by a dismembered corpse.

"Someone in forensics," Frost shrugged. "She said she could tell by his head."

"Well, that's purely conjecture until I can do a thorough examination," The M.E. clucked. There was nothing more unprofessional in her line of work than an assumption.

"When did this happen?" Jane turned to her partner, now absorbed in the moment instead of giving him the silent treatment.

"The renter discovered it late last night while collecting a few belongings. We're not sure when the body — er, parts — were placed here, or even how. The security footage shows no sign of anyone coming in or out of this unit for at least two weeks."

"Do we know who else has access?" Jane continued.

"We have the manager of the building at the station now, he's providing us with a list of employees and renters."

Jane took a breath before stepping into the crowded unit. Maura was already inside, navigating the narrow paths and lifting the flaps of marked boxes. Occasionally, she scribbled a few notes to herself on a legal pad.

After lingering at one box, the M.E. positioned a nearby light and gingerly lifted out a human heart. She began to examine it intensely.

"Whoever this was, he certainly had very healthy capillaries."

"And I'm sure he would've appreciated the compliment," Jane noted sarcastically, horrified at the sight of the organ. A sense of humor was the only thing keeping her focused as her stomach gurgled and churned; she wondered now if it was from hunger or repulsion.

"If this heart is telling a true story," Maura surmised, "this was not a middle-aged man." She made a note and gently placed the organ back in the box.

"So no one's been in or out of here for two weeks..." Jane thought out loud. "Any guess on how long the guy's been dead?" She turned back to Maura, who was now immersed in a liver.

"Jane. You know I don't guess."

"Not even if it's an educated one?" Her eyebrows arched.

"No. Besides, I won't know cause of death until I've done a complete autopsy." The M.E. turned back to her subject, unable to suppress a small smile. She thought of how they always played this game during investigations.

"Well, someone's certainly made your job a hell of a lot easier," the detective concluded, not unaware of the look her friend was throwing her. She never missed an opportunity to get a rise out of the cool and collected Dr. Isles.

Jane continued to inspect the crowded space, tracing the edges of the walls with her eyes. She turned her thoughts to how the body parts found their way into the unit.

"Do any vents or passages run through here?" she called to Frost, who was keeping a safe distance from the boxes. In his hand was a a roll of blueprints.

"I'm looking at the schematic now."

Eager to see if her theory was correct, Jane hastily made her way to the entrance, dodging the needles of a fake Douglas Fur along the way. Before getting to Frost, she collided with full force into the M.E., who had just finished analyzing a left foot.

"Oh!"

Maura toppled into the boxes behind her, pulling the brunette down with her. Together they landed on a small love seat, with Jane on top. Their faces were inches apart when they came to their senses.

"God, Maur, I'm so sorry! You okay?" Jane stammered. She lifted herself up, pushing away the cardboard that had caved over them, and helping the blonde up from the horizontal position. Both their cheeks flushed from the thrill of the impact.

"It's okay, I'm fine," Maura assured, smoothing down her skirt as she found her footing.

"Whew! I think I need a cigarette," the detective rasped, trying to lighten the embarrassment. Her disheveled friend laughed in response.

"I know you don't smoke, Jane," she scolded playfully, finding it hard to compose herself.

"Yeah, well. Maybe I should start," Jane smiled.

In that moment, the doctor had transformed from serious medical examiner into light-hearted Maura Isles. She knew only Jane could do that to her.

The dark-haired woman locked eyes with her gorgeous best friend. Somehow their collision didn't feel like an accident, and she wondered if she would ever dare tell Maura just how much she cared about her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Aside: **Thanks for the encouraging words so far! I was inspired by many of the great R&I fics out there where dialogue plays a pivotal role in moving the scene along. I haven't had a lot of these moments yet in my story, and I realized it's an important part of bringing characters to the surface.

In this chapter, Jane opens up — but not to the person we want her to.

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><p>Jane looked at her phone when she entered the bullpen: it was 5:31. She knew that if she could just make it another 29 minutes, she could slip past Cavanaugh and postpone the inevitable lecture that was coming her way.<p>

The brunette made a b-line for her desk, with Korsak giving her the eye as she sat down. Trying to ignore his disapproving look, she rustled the mouse on her desk, nudging the monitor from it's slumber. She smirked at the restaurant menu on her screen; it was still loading from that afternoon.

Jane pretended to busy herself with the small mound of paperwork that had been looming over her conscience for days. She shuffled folders and sifted through evidence photos. She tapped mindlessly on her keyboard. She took a swig of her cold coffee, regretting it instantly. Only 12 minutes had gone by, and she could still feel the daggers her former partner was throwing in her direction. Finally, she launched her rolling chair from under the desk and threw her arms up in defeat.

"Okay, Korsak. You win. _What_?"

Korsak's face was like stone. "You know what."

"Well obviously I don't, or I wouldn't have asked."

"Come on, Jane, don't make me spell it out. That was a stupid, rookie thing you did today."

"And who told you what I did?"

"I have radio access just like every other cop in this place. I know you stopped those kids without any backup, while on an assignment."

"Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do? I was right there! I couldn't just let those guys get away."

"But you should have waited for the squad! I thought you of all people knew that you can't do these things alone. You're not made of steel, Jane."

The female detective felt a pinch in her nerves; she understood what Korsak was saying between the lines. She looked down at her hands, turning them over slowly. It had been a long time since she really looked at those scars. A wave of guilt crashed over her.

"You're right. You're right." Jane exhaled, burying her face.

Korsak's features softened. He was only looking out for her; Jane didn't know how much Charles Hoyt had also scarred him. After that case, their partnership changed forever, and he would never forget that.

"The worst part of it is," Jane looked up, "Maura was in the car with me."

"Yeah, I heard that. I also heard she threw her _shoe_ at a guy?"

Jane shook her head, a faint smile growing in spite of herself. "I couldn't believe it. You should have seen how she took that guy out , Korsak. I mean, it was like — BAM, and he was on the ground!"

Korsak laughed heartily at the mental image of prim and proper Dr. Isles chucking her expensive heels at a perp. His grin quickly faded when he saw distress sink into Jane's face.

"I don't — "

Several beats passed before she could start again, her dark eyes searching for words on the wall in front of her. She could feel the floodgates opening against her will.

"I don't know what I would have done if she got hurt, Vince. I just don't."

Korsak didn't need her to connect the dots. He had suspected all along how much she cared for Maura. But he also knew it was up to Jane to tell her best friend before the moment passed.

"The important thing is, you know how you feel. Don't ever let that go, Rizzoli."

Jane met the knowing look in Korsak's features with apprehension. Her secret was finally out. Now it was up to her to do something about it, and she wasn't sure she had the guts.

Their sober moment was interrupted by a loud groan.

"Man, I am _starving_!" She whined, saved by her stomach. "I think I'll head down to the morgue, see how Maura's doing."

Jane paused briefly before getting up from her chair. "Thanks, Korsak."

She flashed a soft smile before turning toward the exit. He watched the door swing back and forth behind her, until it was once again motionless.

…

When Jane found Maura, she was leaning over the dismembered remains of the storage unit victim. Everything was aligned with precision in anatomical hierarchy. Music murmured in the background as the doctor hummed, immersed in the meticulous nature of her work.

"Whoa! That is _not_ what I wanted to see before eating," Jane blurted after an abrupt entrance. She looked away immediately when she saw a severed head laying lifeless on the examination table.

Maura jumped. Strands of her hair, which had been tucked neatly under a loose scrub cap, fell to her shoulders as she turned to face the offender. Everything in her look suggested she was still playing the part of serious medical examiner. Jane grimaced in anticipation of her friend's reproach.

"Jane, you startled me! You shouldn't burst in on people holding medical instruments. I could have accidentally compromised this man's sternocleidomastoid!"

"Well we wouldn't want that!" She gasped with obvious sarcasm. Catching herself, she added "I'm sorry, Maur. I know Ma taught me better manners: let me try that again."

Jane jogged back to the morgue doors and made her re-entrance, this time wearing a look of polite indifference while strolling casually toward the M.E.. Amused, Maura feigned annoyance as she played along.

"Good evening, Dr. Isles."

"Good evening, Detective Rizzoli."

"My, oh my, would you just look at that — sterno-cylde-of-hemroid!"

"Sternocleidomastoid," the M.E. corrected.

"...Sterno-whosywhatsit, whatever. And a fine one it is, too!" A beat, then "I say, you wouldn't care for a spot of dinner, would you?"

Jane concluded the one-act with her eyebrows arched.

"That was much better," Maura confirmed. "You might want to lose the British dialect next time, though."

"Good to know."

The duo locked eyes for a moment, smiling wide. Jane went on, slouching into a nearby surface.

"So how about it, Maur? If I go another hour without food, this guy's liver might start looking pretty damn good." She quickly added "And we wouldn't want to compromise any evidence."

Maura sighed lightly, looking down at the all there was left to do. It had been a long day, and she was anxious to spend some time with her best friend. A friend, as of late, she couldn't seem to get enough of.

"I am a little hungry. I suppose I could call it a night."

"That's the spirit!" Jane clasped her hands in satisfaction.

"You, my friend, are a bad influence."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way." The brunette batted her lashes at Maura, who gave her a playful shove.

"You're silly when you're hungry."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N: **I'm crossing my fingers that this chapter feels longer to everyone. I did a fair amount of research on the restaurant where Jane and Maura have dinner, and I apologize to any Boston natives who think Legal Seafood is lame. Please forgive a simple mid-westerner!

I hope you all enjoy.

_**UPDATE (STORY SPOILERS):** I'd like to thank Googlemouth for gently pointing out the error in my understanding of gravity and women's footwear, which previously allowed Maura's heel to have enough weight to pierce Jane's shoe with just a small movement. Although I myself don't wear stilettos, I realize that women who do couldn't possibly walk heel-to-toe in the blasted things. Therefore, I've updated the scene, making the scenario a bit more realistic, but perhaps not as realistic as it could be. Thanks once again for reading!_

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><p>By 7, Jane was desperate for sustenance, but Maura had given such a convincing argument about high temperatures and body odor that she reluctantly agreed to return home to shower and change. For dinner, they decided on the first floor of Legal Seafood's Harborside, a compromise on their different palates and pocketbooks. They would meet there at 8pm, preferably at a table overlooking the pier.<p>

On the pit-stop to her apartment, Jane felt relieved to be alone with her thoughts. The conversation with Korsak replayed in her head as she lunged the stairs of her building and jiggled the keys in her front door.

She tried scripting a confession to Maura, but the idea was too overwhelming; it was one thing to tell Korsak, who was like a second father, and another to tell the object of her affection. Jane thought of how ridiculous it all was while savagely ripping into an unsuspecting banana from her kitchen counter: she could gun down deviants with bravado, yet she cowered at the thought of revealing a few honest words to her best friend.

Of course, she continued to herself, it was more than just a few words. There was the subtle teasing, the affectionate touches, the tender looks — all the nonverbal actions that spoke volumes of their close friendship. But in those moments, Jane knew that what she really wanted to say was "Maura, I love you."

Her heart fluttered while she massaged shampoo through her hair. It was love she felt, after all — not partnership or friendship. Neither of those words felt potent enough to explain the intensity of her feelings.

The more Jane thought about telling Maura how she felt, the more volatile she became. She couldn't be like this at dinner, she determined; not tonight, not after the day they had and the unsolved case that still hovered over them.

By the time she was out of the shower, toweling her dark waves and selecting her clothes for the night, she was resolved to forget the whole thing. She had come this far without exposing herself, and that's how it would stay. At least, for now.

After feeding and walking Jo Friday, she was out the door by 7:46. The evening had cooled the feverish city, and a subtle breeze now swept between the buildings and streets. It kissed Jane's face before she scaled the driver's seat of her SUV.

She tried to concentrate on the beauty of the fading day while her knuckles clenched the steering wheel. It was just dinner with Maura, she comforted herself; just like any other night.

…

"I'm here with a — friend," the fidgeting detective addressed the hostess when she arrived at the Harborside. Much to Jane's dismay, Maura managed to beat her there.

She had hastily applied a new shade of lipstick after a heated debate with herself in the car, and as she was lead through the restaurant, she made a last minute decision to rub it off completely with a nearby napkin. Maura would definitely notice, she thought, which would only make things harder; she couldn't do anything now that encouraged unintentional flirtation.

They approached the table, which was romantically lit by the overhead track lights and a red glow from the setting sun. Jane saw Maura's face illuminate as they locked eyes. Her blonde friend was dazzling, as usual: her elegant summer dress seemed to play off the warmth of the atmosphere, and her eyes sparkled underneath a flawless application of eye shadow.

She thought of how Maura must have taken a college course specifically on that 'smokey eye' trick she herself was too impatient to master. Whatever she was doing, it sent Jane over the moon.

"Steady, Rizzoli" she said under her breath.

She tucked herself into the table, admired the floor-to-ceiling windows and view of the harbor, then turned to beam a smile at her friend.

"Love this place. It's been a long time since I've had Legal's."

"I'm so glad," Maura replied, brighter than ever. "I wasn't sure you'd like it, you're usually quite averse to my seafood recommendations."

"Ah, no, you got me all wrong: I love seafood — just hate squid and shellfish."

"I've seen you eat shrimp, which _is_ technically a shellfish. Although, that term is very loosely applied to all aquatic invertebrates with exoskeletons."

"Okay, well — I eat shrimp. But I just can't eat _squid_. Those guys, they wiggle their tentacles all over the ocean," Jane squirmed in her seat, waving her arms animatedly "and they have those little pucker things, and they squirt black stuff, and just — no. Not appetizing."

Maura chuckled, repressing a retort that 'squid' is actually a broad categorization of over 300 species. She was also certain her friend was partially describing an octopus, but that was a different conversation altogether.

"Whatcha' got there?" Jane pointed to the blonde's drink, already knowing the answer.

"Chardonnay," Maura nodded. "You should have a glass, Jane; it would pair well with several dishes from their menu."

"And so would many of these less expensive beers. You just have to — pick the right one."

She gave a little wink, catching herself before it was too late. The subtle eye movement was not lost on Maura, and she stared curiously at the brunette. Jane pretended to be absorbed in the drink menu.

Just then a waiter approached the table, setting a large plate in front of them. Jane eyed it hungrily; it looked colorful and delicious.

"I took the liberty of ordering an appetizer, I know how hungry you are," Maura offered, reading Jane's thoughts. Before she could explain what it was, her friend was already chewing a healthy forkful.

"Oh, man. This is — this is r_eally_ good!" She said between bites, pointing out a drink to the waiter and bringing a napkin to her lips to make sure nothing was lost.

"I thought you might enjoy it." A growing smile escaped Maura's lips.

"Yeah, wow, this is amazing. What is it?"

"Calamari."

Jane stopped mid-bite, eyes wide. Maura continued:

"It's actually called 'Baked Stuffed Calamari', with sausage and tomato sauce and other — Jane-like things."

"But you're telling me I'm eating squid? Like, right now?"

"Like right now," Maura nodded, stifling her laughter.

"Son-of-a — Maur, that was low." Jane swallowed the mouthful uncertainly.

"But you like it, right?"

"Yeah, I mean — yes. I like it a lot, actually." She shoveled in another large bite, shocked at her own reaction.

"See? Perhaps you should broaden your culinary horizons."

"Well I'll remember that the next time we're at some beer and brats festival and you're all: 'But where's the caviar'?"

"I've never had bratwurst," Maura overlapped, ignoring Jane's remark.

"Then you've never had _heaven_!" Jane exaggerated, finally pushing the appetizer toward her friend to share.

Maura arched her eyebrow in disbelief.

"No, I swear it! When they're done up right, brats are incredible: you roast some peppers and onions, add some spicy mustard and throw it on toasty bun — unbeatable."

"You'll have to make them for me sometime, then."

Maura paused to sample the calamari, pulling the thongs of her fork slowly from her mouth, teasing them around her lips before plunging it back down to the plate for more.

Too many seconds passed before Jane remembered to reply. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"Yeah, sure. Just leave the fancy drinks at home when I do, because you can't have a brat without beer."

Right on cue, the waiter returned with a Bavarian Pilsner for Jane. Seamlessly, she lifted the perspiring glass to Maura, who lifted her delicate stem in return.

"Here's to — deadly stilettos and surprisingly good squid!"

Maura grinned, adding a 'cheers' as their glasses clanked together.

…

After a few hours of great food and sizable drinks, night had finally blanketed the Boston sky. The duo decided to take a walk along Fish Pier, allowing their meals and the alcohol time to digest before driving home.

Together they agreed that the view of the city from the northeast harbors was far superior, but they were content to stroll along the boardwalk all the same, enjoying the music that floated from the boats docked below. The night-time joggers were out in full force, huffing and wheezing past the pair at regular intervals.

"What's your favorite memory from high school?" Jane turned to her friend. Four Pilsners left her feeling uninhibited, and a bit nostalgic.

Maura tried to think past the lonely nights studying or attending society parties with her parents.

"I think — I think my favorite memory is of my junior-year Homecoming."

"Homecoming? Like the dance, not the football game?"

"Yes, the dance." She paused. "John Hatherford, the lead in our school musical, asked me out that year. I was — beyond flattered," Maura reminisced, tilting her head down in embarrassment. The wind gently brushed the hair from her face. She could just hear a familiar Cowboy Junkies song play along the water.

"I didn't go to any of my school dances." Jane shook her head at the fact, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Not one?" Maura stopped and turned to her friend. "Not even your senior Prom?"

"Nope," Jane shrugged. "Not that I wasn't asked, I was just terrified of slow-dancing — long legs and two left feet, you know?" A beat, then "No, I was much better at giving Sam O'Reilly a fist in the face." She chuckled at the memory of his black eye her sophomore year.

"That's a shame. I'm sure you're a very graceful dancer."

Jane guffawed. "Ha! Yeah, right — as graceful as a linebacker."

"I'm serious!" Maura insisted, laughing slightly. "And besides, many football players are classically trained in ballet. It helps with balance and coordination."

"I'll make sure to picture the Patriots in little tutus next season."

Dismissing her dry retort, Maura took Jane by the hand.

"Let's dance right now and see if your theory is right," she challenged.

The detective froze.

"Jane. There's nothing to be frightened of."

After a long pause with no response, Maura pleaded: "Come on — there's a song playing right now that's _perfect_." She was ardent.

Jane locked eyes with her friend, looking at their joined hands and swallowing hard. The wind picked up suddenly, whipping their hair in a fury all around them. She realized in that moment how passionately she wanted to grab Maura by the waist and reel her in.

"Uh." She stalled. "Okay. But if I step on your toes, it's your own fault, got it?"

"Got it." Maura agreed, moving in closer.

The shorter woman casually placed her hands on Jane's shoulders. Automatically, the taller woman wrapped her arms loosely around Maura's waist. Together they began to sway slowly, letting the music tilt them left and right. Maura studied her friend's face.

"See. You're wonderful at this."

Jane smiled sheepishly, saying nothing. Her heart was racing.

Centuries seemed to pass before Maura spoke again. When she did, the timbre of her voice changed entirely; it was almost — sultry, Jane thought.

"They're singing about you, you know."

"Mmm?"

They continued to sway.

"The song. It's called 'Sweet Jane'."

The brunette strained to hear the words.

"They must not know me very well, then," she husked, pulling Maura even closer.

"No." Maura started, almost whispering now. "But _I_ know you. And you are — you're sweet. Sweet, sweet Jane." Her eyes closed halfway, and her lips parted slightly.

Jane thought of breaking her resolution from earlier that night as she dragged her feet forward in time with the music, closing the distance between them even more. The intimacy caused Maura to falter, and she over-compensated by taking a large step forward. Jane's left foot found her way under Maura's then, and she felt a sharp point penetrate the surface of her shoe. In an innate reaction, she unlocked her arms from her partner and buckled over.

"Holy hell! Damn, that hurts!" She seethed in pain.

Maura gasped at Jane's reaction to her clumsy heel. She stepped back, hands over her mouth in sympathy.

"Oh, Jane! Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Right then a nearby jogger, who was not anticipating the sudden block in his path, rammed hard into Maura. Loosing her balance for the second time that day, the blonde fell from the boardwalk, over the thick ropes and into the dark, chilly water below.

"MAURA!"

Before the jogger even realized what happened, Jane's shoes were off and she was diving head first into the harbor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**A/N: **So this is my longest chapter to date, and I'm feeling anxious about it. I look forward to your feedback, thanks for sticking with it!

* * *

><p>"Maur? Maura? Hey — stay with me."<p>

Jane smoothed the matted hair from Maura's face as her eyes fluttered. Gently, she lifted the blonde upright in the passenger seat of her car.

"Is she gonna be okay?" A male voice asked with trepidation from behind the detective.

Jane barely noticed the distressed jogger, who had hovered over her as she gingerly laid her friend's body onto the planks of the pier and listened for breath. After she realized Maura had passed out from shock, the jogger had followed her to the siren-equipped SUV while she carried the soaking woman in her arms.

Agitated by the interruption, Jane snapped her head to face the frightened man. Droplets from her now jet-black hair pricked him like needles.

"Yeah, I'll take care of her — just _go home_."

As he began to leave, she barked: "And stop running at night in all black, you moron, or I'll have the entire Boston PD out looking for you!" The man scurried away.

Turning back to Maura, Jane's forehead creased with concern. She thought of all the ways she could have prevented her friend's fall into the icy harbor: if only she hadn't agreed to dance, if only they had kept walking, if only she had just — kissed her.

"J-Jane."

She climbed further into the passenger seat when she heard Maura speak.

"Maura. Oh, thank god."

Jane sighed in relief, unable to control the tremble in her jaw. When she spoke, it was both in an effort to compose herself and comfort her friend.

"Everything's okay, you just fell into the water. I'm gonna take you to the hospital." She reached for her police radio.

"No, please," Maura started, touching her friend's hand. She was slowly returning to consciousness. "I don't need to — to go to the hospital."

Jane slipped the walkie back in the sleeve and held Maura's shoulders, her dark eyes searching for signs of injury.

"Does anything hurt?"

Maura met her look, shaking her head.

"You don't feel _any _pain? Nothing's broken?"

"I may have some — some minor contusions around my ribs and scapula, but I'll be fine." She was sitting up straight now, tucking a clump of damp hair behind her ear.

Jane smiled; only an alert Dr. Isles would be that specific. A few beats passed between them before she broke their silence.

"Well. That's one way to sober up."

Maura couldn't help her laughter, although it was obvious to Jane she felt embarrassed, and at an unusual loss for words.

"Alright, well: you're soaked, I'm soaked — let's get you home. We'll come back for your car tomorrow."

The detective climbed down from the passenger side and carefully closed the door. She squished into the driver's seat, making sure to switch off the arctic setting of her AC.

They made their way to Maura's apartment in complete silence.

...

The blonde raced ahead of Jane as they entered her front door, a trail of water behind her.

"I'll grab some towels."

Although a little subdued, Maura appeared to have otherwise recovered from their evening swim. But Jane couldn't help the tinge of guilt she felt for noticing the revealing qualities of the blonde's wet summer dress as she walked away.

Forcing her thoughts to the cold harbor, Jane's jaw chattered while she stood in the foyer. She tried vigorously to conduct heat into her arms, but with the precise 68-degree temperature in Maura's apartment, it felt like walking into a freezer after a day on the beach.

She could just see Bass inching along the polished floor in the kitchen. She smiled to herself, thinking of the British strawberries he would feast on later. Things would be different if she were slow and steady like a tortoise, she thought; she would never allow herself to be impulsive then. She would be patient, reserved. She would be content with Maura's friendship — not pining for something more.

"You didn't have to wait in here, Jane," Maura scolded, clearing the clouds from the detective's mind as she returned to the hallway. She had exchanged her damp dress for a cozy bathrobe, the smeared makeup on her face now wiped clean and her darkened hair combed straight. To Jane, she had never looked lovelier.

Maura held out a large, fluffy towel for her friend, who accepted it graciously and began sponging the excess moisture from her body. She breathed in the familiar scent of detergent as she passed the fabric through her hair.

"Come in, I'll get you some clothes," Maura offered, taking a moment to observe the brunette's drying ritual.

Jane removed her sopping shoes and socks and padded her way to the guest bedroom. It had been at least three and half weeks since she last spent the night at Maura's, so it was a welcome sight when her robed friend produced a set of her own pajamas and laid them on the bed.

"Guess this means I'm staying over." Jane tried to disguise her hopefulness.

Maura hesitated. "Only — if you want to."

"I should go and take care of Jo Friday," she responded automatically. When the light dimmed in Maura's eyes, she quickly added "But I'll call Korsak. I know he's up, and I'm sure he can take her for the night. What's one more fuzzy animal, right?"

Maura smiled and looked down. "Well. I'll let you get dressed." She paused by the door. "Would you like some tea? I was going to put the kettle on."

"Sure, if you're having some. I'd love a cup." Jane smiled warmly, briefly locking eyes with the blonde.

Maura paused a moment longer, deliberating over something. She opened her mouth to speak but decided to leave it instead, gently closing the door behind her as she exited.

Jane's chest beat fast as she peeled the wet clothes from her skin. Something was happening here, she thought. She began to wonder if Maura suspected her feelings. Maybe she noticed the way she eyed her in the soaked dress, or the way she gazed at her in that robe. Or, perhaps all the events of the day — their exchange that morning, their fall in the storage unit, their dance along the pier — added up to mean their friendship was rapidly changing.

Jane panicked at the thought of losing Maura to her hidden desires. She would have to learn to curb her affections, she determined. She could do this — she _had_ to do this.

After a quick call to Korsak, the detective took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door with a forceful resoluteness. She was surprised to find Maura immediately on the other side, two mugs in hand.

"I thought I'd just — bring it to you," she began, slightly windswept from Jane's dramatic swoosh of the door. "You must be tired."

"Ah, thanks." Jane took a cup from Maura and stepped aside, allowing her to enter.

They both sat on the edge of the bed and sipped at their steaming beverages. Feeling the top of the covers with a free hand, Jane realized how much she missed the puffy down comforter that Maura kept fresh and clean for her. She always slept soundly under it's protection, especially if Maura was lying next to her.

The yellow warmth of a solitary lamp lit a small portion of the room, exposing the the tired lines on their faces.

"What a day, huh?" Jane understated, looking down at the swirling tans and browns in her mug.

"Yes," Maura sighed after a small sip, "a very long and — frustrating day."

Jane rested a hand softly on her friend's knee.

"What's wrong?" She looked to Maura's shoulder. "Is it your spatula? Because if it's broken, I swear to god I'll find that jogging asshole and — "

"I'm fine," Maura assured, placing her hand over Jane's and smiling at her confident mispronunciation. "Really, I am."

Maura paused, and the brunette waited nervously; she hoped her friend couldn't hear the loud thump of her heart.

"Jane, I — I want to — tonight, in the the harbor..." After a breath, she was able to continue: "I'm usually very skilled at swimming. Garrett and I, we swam together all the time. But when I fell into the water, it's like I lost all control of my arms and legs. That's never happened to me before."

"But this wasn't like a leisurely swim, Maur," Jane comforted. "You were _literally_ knocked unconscious."

"Yes, but if you hadn't — been there... You rescued me, Jane."

The detective turned red. She was both relieved and anxious; now was the time to tell Maura how she felt — that she we would swim all the harbors for her, even die for her — but she couldn't form the words.

She opted for a casual approach.

"Anyone would have done that."

"But not like that, not as fast as you reacted," Maura observed.

"I was just returning the favor," Jane shrugged, burying her words into a long sip from her cup.

Maura tilted her head to the side, a look of confusion on her face.

"The chase? Your heels?" Jane hinted after swallowing, making a tossing motion with her arm. Maura laughed at her own improvised actions from that afternoon.

"We gotta start using those things in the force," the brunette added with a smirk. "I've honestly never seen a better concealed weapon."

"And who would wear them?" the blonde asked playfully, eyeing her friend in anticipation.

"Well," she thought for a moment. "I think heels like that would look great on Frost. Have you seen that man's legs?"

They chuckled at the image, each pausing to take another sip of tea. A few beats passed, and Jane decided it was time to be serious.

"I'm thankful you were with me then, Maur. I am. But you could've been shot or — worse, and I shouldn't have put you in that position."

Maura angled her body in sympathy. "That doesn't matter to me, Jane. I'm just proud you did what was right." After considering it for a moment, she added "I will always feel safe with you, no matter what happens."

A heaviness draped the air between them, and Jane's stomach began to burn.

"I could have lost you today," she started, an unsteady pitch in her voice, "and I'm not ready to — " The rest was caught in her throat, as if she were being strangled by her better judgement.

Seeing the tears form in her brown eyes, Maura cupped a warm hand around Jane's face.

"It's okay," she hushed. "It's okay, Jane — I'm here, everything's fine. I'm here."

At Maura's touch, the dam broke. Jane released her grip on the mug and clasped the blonde's face between her hands, tea splashing onto the finely weaved carpet beneath them. After a quick scan of her hazel eyes, which looked deeper than ever, Jane crashed hard into her lips.

When Maura returned the kiss, still clinging her mug, Jane felt like she was melting in a warm pool. The ache in her stomach rose like a tide into her chest, overflowing from her ears and mouth. Her hands found their way to Maura's waist, and she pulled her in closer. Maura's free hand, in turn, reached up Jane's back and tugged wantingly at her shirt.

They emerged, seemingly hours later, to catch their breath.

"Jane," Maura whispered. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

Jane was unable to stop herself; she confessed her secret at last.

"I love you, Maura."

The blonde laughed and cried at once. "I thought you'd _never_ say it."

It was as if Jane had been cleared for landing: she tucked the loose strands of Maura's hair behind her ear and locked eyes, going in for another kiss. This time, their contact was softer, filled with a tenderness neither had experienced before. The mug slipped from Maura's fingers, rolling down the length of her robe before it landed next to Jane's. The stains from the tea crossed paths, making an 'x' in the carpet.

In a full embrace, their rhythmic breathing intertwined. Jane was overtaken by desire, and with a hand behind her head, she lowered Maura down to the feathery surface of the mattress. They were now horizontal, with Jane positioned directly over Maura, whose arms sprawled above her in surrender.

Lightly pushing the robe away from her shoulders, Jane made a path down Maura's neck and explored the flavors of her salted skin. She had never tasted anything so exquisite.

"God, you're beautiful," she husked low into her ear. Maura shivered with pleasure. Her eyes closed, and her mouth opened with invitation. She positioned her hands on Jane's lean back, moving them up and down with each new contact.

Jane went lower and lower with her kisses, pulling lightly at the opening of the cloth at Maura's chest. She slipped a hand under the robe and navigated it to her nipple, which hardened from the touch. Slowly, Jane began to work the loose knot on the fabric belt, keeping her lips to Maura's body.

She opened the robe, revealing the perfect symmetry of Maura's breasts. She looked up in permission before circling her tongue around the pink tips. The blonde gasped softly at the sensation.

Jane pushed more of the fabric from Maura's skin, until finally she had uncovered all of her. Her breath quickened as took in her treasure; she was flawless. Jane smoothed her hands over every muscle, memorizing the dips and curves of her figure.

She then removed her shirt and pressed her bare chest to Maura's; they both sighed at the feeling of their torsos touching.

After a few moments enjoying the valleys of her stomach, Jane slid to Maura's thighs, caressing one leg while she sucked on the other. A low moan escaped the blonde's throat as she placed a hand on the back of Jane's head.

The brunette voyaged almost everywhere before she came to the spot she wanted most. Gently, she spread Maura's legs, taking full advantaged of the sensitive areas of her inner thigh before arriving at her clit. Her tongue dove between the folds, swirling and savoring the taste.

"Oh god, Jane."

The moans came instantly, and Maura's back arched as Jane continued with a steady pulse. Tucking her knees under her chest while maintaining contact, the brunette gingerly slid her fingers into Maura's opening.

Jane delighted to find how wet she was, moving her hand up and down in unison with the pulse of her tongue. Maura was now clenching top of the headboard with one hand while gripping a lock of Jane's hair with the other. Her body danced in time with Jane's beats.

Maura came with an earthy groan, heaving and shaking in ecstasy. After she felt her body settle, Jane crawled up to meet her face and was welcomed with a lingering kiss. They collapsed in eachother's arms, their chests rising and falling rapidly from their shallow breaths.

After spending a few moment to recover, Jane finally spoke, her voice raspy and satisfied.

"I never thought it could be like that."

Maura pulled her close and rested her head on the brunette's shoulder.

"Neither did I."


End file.
